The World is Turned
by Crimson Siyrean
Summary: Danielle de Chagny's life is suddenly torn apart when some interesting information is made public causing Erik to be thrown into the middle a ferocious sibling rivalry.
1. Family?

Disclaimer: still don't own POTO but I'll let you know when I do.  
  
A/N: All right, finally brought this back with a slightly shorter name, but unfortunately I won't have the time to update for about 2 weeks when exams finish.  
  
Basic story is that Christine has raised her and Erik's daughter as Raoul's but not everyone is so accepting when such information comes out. I'm going pretty much by Kay's ending since I don't want to have to write all the back story required for something different, and for age reasons I'm going to say Erik was in his mid to late thirties at the time.  
  
The first chapter is really slow I admit but it really is just an introduction since I'm working with so many non-canon characters. It does pick up after this chapter.  
  
~*~  
  
The world is turned  
  
~*~  
  
It was a Sunday just like any other one would think. The Changy children were walking home together from church at a slow leisurely pace enjoying the warm spring air. Their father, as has been with the previous few weeks, was not with them. A growing illness had left him bedridden with him too weak to even make it down the stairs. The doctors said it would not be long now, yet Raoul still managed to hold a cheerful countenance in the presence of his children.  
  
The two eldest walked side by side with a false look of contentment on their faces while the other two followed a few steps back, attempting, or rather pretending to not overhear their siblings' conversation. The silent contempt the two eldest held for each other was not lost to their siblings nor did their parents particularly know about it. Though Josephine at seven was still too young to really grasp much of their conflicts, she could still feel the underlying discord enough to stay away when the two of them were together. Etienne on the other hand was sixteen, and could not just pass their behavior off, as they simply did not like each other. Their sickly sweet persona to each other along with false smiles and tightly controlled language in companies presence was enough to make him suspect they were both planning on poisoning the other. He too, had the good sense to remain silent once their simple remarks began, knowing full well that they were only going to escalate, but then he was never much for talking to begin with.  
  
Etienne had a quiet disposition, not really because he himself was a loner, but more because he simply did not wish to be caught in the crossfire of his brother and sisters rivalry. Instead he decided he wanted to be as little trouble to his parents as possible, their hands were full enough keeping Nicolas and Danielle from killing each other without having to deal with him as well.  
  
At first his parents were concerned about his seemingly shy persona, as he would spent all his time at his studies or sketching landscapes, but as soon as he was first introduced to society, all the worries his parents held were put to rest. Etienne had evidently inherited all his fathers' boyish charms along with his good looks. Though reserved, he could be an excellent conversationalist when he needed, was easy going, and always willing to have a good time; this along with his dirty blond hair and sparkling blue eyes was not at all lost on the ladies.  
  
Raoul could not help but laugh as he watch mothers already pushing their daughters in his direction, sadden only by the fact that Christine was no longer with them so see her favorite son grow to be a true gentleman. Etienne personally thought the way they acted was ridicules. Like any sixteen year old boy, he fully enjoyed the young ladies attentions, but he new he was far too young to be thinking about marriage and besides that, he fully intended to attend university and study a profession, in which case women would simply be a distraction.  
  
Josephine, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She was lively, energetic, and constantly dirtying her new expensive dresses. Despite her hyper activeness being trying to ones patience at times, everyone couldn't help but fall in love with the young girl. Her free spirited soul was overshadowed only by the purity of her heart. She was sweet innocence it self, wishing only that everybody else were as happy as she was. Some who knew Christine the best even ventured to say that when her mother died, her spirit past into the newborn girl. Danielle personally thought the idea was ridicules but couldn't help agreeing that her mother indeed died giving birth to an angel.  
  
Danielle was there when it happened. She had sat at her mother's bedside, holding her hand through the screams and watching on in fear. The whole room was dully lit with only the midwife and a few other ladies in the room with her. Only sixteen at the time, Danielle was though old enough to sit with her mother through the ordeal, this was something they though would be a good experience for her and besides, she was always such a brave child, but in truth she was terrified the entire time. As her mother clasped her hand with crushing pressure and she listened to her pained cries, Danielle wanted nothing more but to run from the room.  
  
Eventually after many tense hours Danielle heard the cries of Josephine's entry to the world. Looking over to her mother, she was nearly brought to tears as she saw the look of sublime pride glowing from Christine's face as her newborn daughter was presented to her.  
  
Like her mother Danielle instantly fell in love with the tiny babe, all it took was one wrinkled look in her direction and tears of joy started to trail down her face. Moments later Raoul was permitted into the room and took her place at Christine's side. He almost looked more disheveled than Christine as he came in, in a cold sweat and shaking nervously. Quickly he came to his wife's side and kissed her tenderly before turning his attention to his new daughter.  
  
It was only now that Danielle noticed the midwives and nursemaids agitation. They were whispering quickly and giving pained expression to each other. Now becoming concerned Danielle moved closer to where they were standing but as she did she couldn't help but stare at the amount of blood that was lost and now stained the sheets. Fully admitting to her self that she did not know much about childbirth, something in the back of her head continued to tell her that this was not right.  
  
Distraught she glanced back over to her parents and observed the look of love they both possessed as they gazed over their newborn child. Raoul had one had wrapped around Christine and the other gently stroking his daughters head. She smiled as she couldn't help but notice that he seemed to have a strange problem with not being able to go more then a few seconds with out kissing either his wife or the small child. It was then when an uneasy midwife pulled her father to the side to speak with him.  
  
Danielle did not like the expressions she saw pass between the two as quick gestures were frantically made. Turning her attention away from the scene, Danielle saw her mother weakly motion for her to come back. She was surprised that as she moved back to her side, her mother carefully placed the babe into her arms with loving care.  
  
"Take good care of her." Christine whispered when at last Danielle held the child next to her.  
  
"Maman?" Confused she looked at the girl then back to her mother, noticing now how ghastly pale and weak she appeared.  
  
"She'll need you now... you're so like him...." She began with a bit more strength in her voice and then faded. It was then Danielle's hearing focused to the other side of the room where her father was speaking, and with the midwife's next words struck horror into her, and she understood her mothers meaning.  
  
"Monsieur, your wife is dying." Shocked, she nearly lost her balance as Raoul bolted back to Christine's side. The events that followed were not clear in her mind, all she could really remember was sitting on the floor, clutching Josephine tightly to her body as she cried uncontrollably along with the babe. Vaguely she knew her siblings were there as well, at times talking to her, but nothing was really clear.  
  
Christine did not last the night.  
  
Raoul at first had been deeply affected by Christine's death, locking him self in solitude and refusing to see his children, he seemed to lose grasp of reality. After weeks of mourning by himself, Danielle simply would not tolerate his silence anymore, it was not healthy and she worried if nothing was done she'd soon lose her father as well. She had to go as far as actually physically forcing him from the room, in his state it did not take much strength to remove him. Oh he cursed at her and said some utterly wretched things as she dragged him out but eventually he quieted. Then she brought him little Josephine and when he looked down on the tiny babe he could have sworn he saw Christine.  
  
Not since her birth had he looked upon his daughter and by far she resembled their mother the most. Already she had a full head of curly brown hair with shining big blue eyes, even the child's laughs reminded him of Christine. He knew then that he could not abandon his family to grief, he could not be so selfish and from that moment on, Danielle could do no wrong in his eyes.  
  
As the years past Danielle and Josephine became inseparable. Danielle took over the roll of mother and sister as well as governess with ease, indulging the little girl a little too often for her own good. Never would anyone say she was spoiled, she simply liked her freedom and thought nothing of catching frogs in the bog, or jumping in mud puddles after the rain. She could spend all day in the gardens picking flowers only to present then to her father while she trailed mud throughout the house with a smile on her face.  
  
Nicolas of course did not approve of this, but then Nicolas did not approve of much that involved his sisters. He was an odd boy right from the start. He never took an interest to really anything growing up, more actually, it was that he took an interest in everything at one point but simply did not stick with it long enough to actually become particularly good at it. One could look at this and say that he was simply an impatient boy. If he tried his hand at something and did not get immediate results, he would move to the next and repeat the cycle over again.  
  
He was also a very competitive child, which is really what led to most of his peculiarities. Being only a year younger than Danielle, he felt the constant need to compare himself to her, which was not an easy task. Danielle had always been exceptionally bright and seemed to excel at everything she tried, where Nicolas only saw himself fail. When he saw his parents' constant praise of her abilities and accomplishments, he could only see it as attention paid to her and not him, that she was the favorite.  
  
Over the years the frustration grew to bitterness and he was not above doing anything he could to tarnish is sisters reputation in the eyes of his parents. This combined with Danielle's explosive temper did not make things easy on their mother and father, especially in their younger years when they did not have the good sense to hide their resentment from them. Because Nicolas felt like he had to fight for every bit of attention growing up, he ended up becoming quite selfish at times. Nothing around him mattered except how it affected him, which is why when societies rumors concerning his sister reached his ears he was furious and saw it as something that would ruin the proud name of Chagny, his name being the only thing he really had to be proud of. Matters were not helped when the one girl that caught his eye refused his proposal. He couldn't see her reasoning to be anything but because of his sister and not from his less than gentlemanly pursuits of pleasure he'd become increasingly involved with.  
  
And then there was Danielle, who above all else was proud, proud of her abilities, accomplishments, and especially her name. One could sense an aura of command around her as every step she took she took with purpose and dignity. A true daughter of the aristocracy, she held her head high, waving off all comments concerning her mother and her former 'profession' or other equally disturbing rumors. The only real fault that could be found in her was a subtle streak of arrogance that occasionally came out, mainly when dealing with her brothers' antics. Danielle was intelligent and she knew it and though at first she had intended to go off to school, after her mother's death she opted to remain home to help raise little Josephine instead.  
  
All through her education she excelled at increasing rates, as there didn't seem a subject she could not master, especially in the arts. She was an excellent musician, accomplished on many instruments though she preferred the piano and cello the most. Despite being told she had an astounding voice, she preferred not to display it as it tended to remind everyone of Christine's opera days. It was then that the knowing glances would start to be cast across the room, and triumphant smirks made to friends.  
  
Danielle's introduction to society had not been the easiest, only sixteen she was not prepared for the inevitable prejudice that came along with being the daughter of a chorus girl, nor had she built up the stiff wall of controlled emotion she now possessed. Her mother was still not even fully accepted into the ranks of aristocracy and Danielle's appearance didn't help matters much. At 5'10 with raven black hair she held barely no resemblance to either of her parents. The only thing, which she was greatly thankful for, were her large blue eyes, which all her siblings possessed as well as her parents. Danielle could still remember people commenting on how she had her father's height and that her hair must be from the Daae side but her eyes were definitely her fathers, only to be followed by a short laugh or a questioning expression.  
  
Despite her very rational line of thinking her mind refused to process any of the things being said. She and her father had always been particularly close; in her youth they spent much of their time together. He was the one who first taught her to ride, sail, and even shoot much to her mother's disapproval of course. And despite her always-proper manors she still possessed that free spirited love of life shared by her sister and lacking in Nicolas. With this, she and her father would spend hours riding through the fields joking lightly on every subject. She new he was never one to be kept in doors, stuck behind a desk, and Raoul new that Danielle was not one to be contented simply sitting around acting like a lady all day.  
  
As unfortunate as it was, Christine's death actually made things easier for the girl. No longer would catty women dare to make comments about Raoul's favorite, for now at 36 he was not only very handsome, rich, and held a title, but most importantly he was single. Danielle would watch and try not to laugh as women only a few years older than she would try to catch the Vicomtes eye or flirt shamelessly with him. He was always far too much the gentleman to deny the ladies a dance but beyond that, much to Danielle's relief, he paid them no attention.  
  
It was only months ago that it was discovered he was ill. He had all the best doctors but none of them could find cause or a cure for his malady, life just seemed to be being sucked out of him, growing weaker and weaker with every day. He had been confined to his bedchamber for the past few weeks now, where Danielle and a nurse tended to him as often as possible. The doctors said that it would be any day now, causing growing tension amongst his children. With each of them dealing with their grief in their own way, tempers were quick to flare. Even Etienne would have the occasional out burst, not able to hold his tongue while Nicolas and Danielle spat insult to each other.  
  
And now they were all outside, taking the much-needed air to offer some comfort before they reentered that house. Of course Nicolas could not help but take this opportunity to pick a fight with Danielle.  
  
"I didn't hear you singing today, finally letting them get to you? Father would be so displeased, especially in his present state." He commented offhandedly, with out even a glance to his sister. Danielle merely raised her eyebrows in a bored expression, far too used to his comments to take them to heart.  
  
"Really Nicolas, the least we can do is act civil towards one another when we get home." Danielle calmly replied with no hint of actual interest in what he was saying.  
  
"Yes I suppose we could manage that. You know, despite the fact that it is father dying, I'll be happy to have this whole thing over with." His tone had a hint of amusement to it as he turned his head slightly in her direction. He now had her attention.  
  
"And why do you say that?"  
  
"Because then, dear sister, I can finally be rid of you." At this Danielle couldn't hold back a laugh. As much as she'd love to never see her dear brother again, the idea of him accomplishing anything, let alone finding away to get her out of the house was laughable at best.  
  
"Really? Do tell me, how exactly do you plan to do this? Have you found someone to marry me off to already perhaps?" she could not hide the mirth in her tone, his simple mind was far to uncreative to come up with anything other than marriage.  
  
"If only it were that simple. You see no one wants to marry the daughter of an opera whore... but I'm sure, with the right price of course, I could find someone willing to take you off my hands."  
  
So nonchalantly did he speak this that it made it difficult for Danielle to remain composed while her fury was burning inside of her. Taking a deep breath while not letting her steps falter, she calmed herself before she spoke. "She was your mother too..."  
  
A sly grin played across Nicolas face, as he couldn't wait to see his ever- composed sisters response to his next statement.  
  
"That may be so, but at least I know who my father is, you... do not."  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R it's greatly appreciated. And thanks to everyone who did before this was deleted. ^_^; 


	2. Peace?

A/N: lots of dialog here... which as I've mentioned elsewhere is not my strong suit so let me know what you think. As always feedback is very welcome. This chapter was also cut in half due to its length.  
  
~*~  
  
Danielle stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned while cocking her head to the side. She eyed him carefully while he was smiling in obvious satisfaction. Though she was quite sure he was well aware of all the comments being made about her, never had he actually came out and mentioned them before. Sizing up her brother, she glared at him defiantly as she controlled her anger. Extending her back to her full height she straightened herself to show how little affect his words had on her, holding her head high.  
  
"How dare you say such a thing? Indeed Nicolas, this really is too much. I thought even you were above such ridiculous, petty rumors. I should certainly hope you would not repeat this garbage again, especially with papa in his present state." Done scolding him, she started back on their path without a second glance.  
  
"Do not worry that head of yours. I will not distress father with your disgrace, and instead feign ignorance like the rest of this family. To tell you the truth, I don't understand why they didn't just simply admit it from the beginning and legally adopt you. It would have made thing much easier, especially for you. Ah, here we are now." They had come to the walkway in front of an impressively sized house. With haste he made his way in the building, not allowing her to answer, as she stood there stunned. She could tell his words held more meaning then he would let on. That boy was up to something, she could tell.  
  
"Danielle, are you not coming?" startled, she turned to see Etienne holding Josephine's hand at her side.  
  
"Not just yet, I'll be in shortly." She replied distantly, still dwelling on Nicolas's words.  
  
"You shouldn't let him get to you." He said while placing a hand on her arm. Always worried about everybody else, she thought to herself, looking at him. In truth she felt sorry for the kid, this wasn't exactly the ideal family situation, she knew.  
  
"Don't worry about me, you know I can handle him. Now why don't you get Josephine cleaned up before she sees papa. I'll be in in a minute." Smiling she watched the two enter the house be for turning to walk through the garden. She needed to clear her mind before dealing with him again without wringing his neck.  
  
She sat down on a stone bench just around the side of the house and closed her eyes. She wanted to think of nothing, these days it felt like the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders. Taking care of Josephine, watching her father slowly die, dealing with Nicolas and knowing that soon he'll be the head of the household, it was just pressing down on her head constantly and she just wanted peace.  
  
Keeping her eyes closed she slowly ran her fingers along the crevasses of the cold stone, allowing her mind to paint a picture of that hard surface. Peace, this is what it would be like, nothing but simple sensations to move the mind. Images drifting like the waves, nothing solid or tangible, just drifting thoughts where nothing mattered. A smile crept upon her lips as she leaned her head against her hand. She felt truly in a state of bliss.  
  
"Mademoiselle de Chagny, I've been meaning to see you." Danielle looked up to see William Bennet, the Chagny gardener for the past few years. He was a young man, very polite, kind, and good enough to take care of Josephine for a few hours every now and then, usually resulting in Josephine returning covered in grass stains from their games.  
  
Danielle gave him a warm smile and stood to great the man. It seemed there would be little peace today. "Yes William, what can I do for you."  
  
"I brought this for you. I saw my mother just the other day, it's her own recipe, says it'll warm the troubled heart... not to say that your cooks aren't good but you know, mother knows best and what not..." blushing shyly he handed her a ceiled container of soup and then fiddled with his hands, refusing to meet her eyes.  
  
"Thank you William, this is very kind of you and tell your mother thanks as well."  
  
"I certainly will... I'll just let you be then... Good day mademoiselle." He replied awkwardly.  
  
"Good day." Now with a cold container of soup in her hands she decided it was best to just head inside and face the inevitable.  
  
After putting her things away and washing up Danielle went to see her father. She slowly entered the dimly lit room noticing Nicolas standing casually in the corning, eyeing her carefully as she entered.  
  
"Ah there she is. Nicolas tells me you did not sing today, I couldn't bare the thought that it was because of me. You know how happy it makes me to hear you." Raoul spoke in a serious yet non-accusing tone once he finally beheld his daughter. He was sitting upright in a large canopied bed with an open book laid casually by his side. He looked better then he had the previous few days yet the signs of sickness were still present. His far too pale skin, loose linen covering a terribly underweight frame, dark circles under faded eyes, and slow, pained movements, all pointed to the undeniable truth. Quickly she sat at his side shooting a glare of pure ice in her brother's direction.  
  
Hesitantly she replied, "Papa, I... it's just... it's not the same without you there." Ending her line by reaching for a hug, she hoped he didn't catch her lie. Especially after Nicolas's remark she didn't want to even give thought to her reasons let alone disturb her father with paranoid ideas. He looked her over with concern but quickly accepted her odd behavior.  
  
"Well you'll just have to sing extra loud next week..."  
  
Annoyed with Danielle's attention, Nicolas cut in knowing they likely forgot he was in the room. He came close to the bed and asked in honest concern, "How are you feeling today papa? It's a nice day out, I could easily help you outside if you like and I'm sure some fresh air could do some good."  
  
"That's quite all right Nicolas, but if you don't mind I'd like to talk to your sister alone for a moment." Raoul brushed off, returning his attention to his daughter.  
  
"Of course." With a furious glare to his sister, Nicolas briskly left the room, closing the door respectfully behind him.  
  
Once gone, Raoul continued to speak with Danielle. "I understand that the Lacey's are throwing a ball this evening and that you're not planning to attend."  
  
"You couldn't possibly expect me to attend, not with you in this condition." She hurriedly answered.  
  
"My dear I'll be fine, plus I've got that blasted nurse." Danielle gave him a strange look. "What! That woman is insufferable, you'd think me an invalid the way she fusses about." He jested, though she knew the woman could be a little 'overbearing' at times. Still she was not comfortable with letting any of the time they had left together go to waste.  
  
"All the more reason for me to stay!"  
  
"Danielle, I want you to go. Be happy, this room is no place for you. Please, I would not be happy knowing you stayed here on my account." He was pleading with her now; Danielle knew that whenever he used that tone with her she could not ignore it. She looked him over, somehow every flaw the illness brought out seemed to magnify under her scrutiny. Feeling pricks of water forming at her eyes she turned, wishing to hide her uncontrolled emotion.  
  
Slowly two gentle arms reach around her with a light squeeze of assurance. "It'll be alright, I'll be fine." His voice said over her shoulder.  
  
With a quick sniff and rub of her eye she turned back to him with a half smile. "Very well."  
  
"Excellent, now go see if Sarah will bring us some hot tea." Somehow the change in demeanor seemed so normal for him, instantly causing her half smile to grow to a full one as a giggle escaped her lips.  
  
~*~  
  
Hours later, Danielle sat in the library, leisurely reading in a large leather chair enjoying some time to herself before she had to get ready for the ball that night.  
  
A loud creek from the door then decided to disrupt her silence and was followed by Nicolas's steps and then presence looking over her shoulder. Quite irritated, she ignored his figure and tried to concentrate on the words on the page. There was only one reason he could be there for and that was to bother her and quite frankly she had had enough of him for the day as it was.  
  
Without concern he pushed the cover up in her hands to read its title. "Don Juan by Lord Byron." He spoke stiffly before returning to a regular posture. "Really Danielle, how can you read such garbage?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow but continued to stare at her page. "You've read it?" she replied bored, knowing full well that he hadn't; poetry was too much for him.  
  
"No, but I know that it's filled with nothing but loose morals and wanton women..." he spoke almost in a rehearsed tone. This will be great, Danielle thought to herself, Nicolas preaching about morals.  
  
"Really? All sixteen thousand versus?" In a curious manner she flipped through the pages and held the book at odd angles. "...Must have missed a section, sounded good too..." Now she looked up at him. "You know, you might actually want to read it first..."  
  
"I have more important things to spend my time on, and so should you. Besides, as you well know, a woman's lust is not something that needs encouragement." He continued on in his condescending manner though he put extra emphasis on his last question, looking curiously for Danielle's reaction.  
  
She almost couldn't stop herself from laughing outright in his face. Closing her book she stood and leaned against the edge of a small bay window, crossing her arms on her chest. "And what do you know of woman's lust other than that which you've paid for?"  
  
She smirked as his face turned a deep shade of red. "A more interesting question is how much do you know of it?" he snapped back, irritated.  
  
"Enough."  
  
"I'm sure." She eyed carefully as paced a little in front of her. What does he want, surely he has better thing to do then pester me, she thought but then remembered that it was Nicolas and that the chances of him doing anything of importance were slim to none. Making an exaggerated yawn she sat in the window seat as he continued. "Am I understand you'll be attending the ball tonight?"  
  
"That is correct."  
  
"I expect you will be wearing something tasteful."  
  
What was he getting at? Clothing was never an issue for her. She decided to just smile and answer shortly. "I usually do."  
  
"Le Marquis de Ronge will be there." He slipped her a quick glance and then continued his pace. Ah, so that's what this had to do with. She rolled her eyes and stepped towards him fully annoyed.  
  
"I am aware of that fact. Really Nicolas, I'm sure you think you're being rather clever with this line of questioning but the plain truth is that matching wits with you is like competing with Josephine. What is it that you're so desperately trying to lead to?" and with that she went to put her book away, turning her back rudely on him.  
  
Partially enraged he answered coldly. "Simply that I'd hardly call your behavior in the past with Monsieur de Ronge acceptable. There's enough gossip surrounding you as there is, we do not need more."  
  
Disgusted with what he was obviously implying she turned to face him with a look that fully expressed her feelings for the boy. "We? Father's not even dead and you're already acting in his place? Unbelievable! And I'll have you know, dear brother, that I am an honorable woman and by all means still 'good'. So you won't have to worry about that while you try to pass me off as a bride to one of your friends. Besides, as you well know, the Marquis and I have not seen each other in over a month, he is engaged to the Duchesse De Marni."  
  
"Of course, no family in their right mind would allow their son to marry the likes of you." He answered with amusement as she made her way towards him.  
  
"I can not control what they chose to believe. But tell me, why did Mademoiselle Allamey turn you down?" She had had quite enough of him for the day and certainly didn't feel like defending herself anymore, especially to a halfwit.  
  
"You know why." He answered dulling, not really noticing Danielle's close proximity till she was right in his face.  
  
"Yes I do, but the problem is you don't seem to. For some strange reason you've got this pathetic notion in your head that I had something to do with the whole affair when in reality no woman in there right mind would even consider marriage with a spiteful, useless, self-righteous, boring, selfish, imbecile such as yourself. Face it Nicolas, you're a hateful human being and no body likes you." She then simply turned her back to him and walked out of the room.  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ^_^ 


	3. Stability?

A/N: this is just the chapter that doesn't end! I cut out a huge section from this just to get things going, I'm sorry that it took so long to get into the basic story. Part of what I cut will be included, though shrunk, in later chapters if you're wondering what happened. Anyways, enough of my rambling.  
  
~*~  
  
Later that evening, all of society was dressed at there best for the Lacey's ball. The lavish household was perfect for this sort of entertainment with large open rooms with plenty of seating and a most exquisite garden and pond system. Danielle decided to wear one of her more flattering gowns that evening, a soft blue that graciously accented her eyes with bold black lace trimmings to match her pulled back hair. No one could pass her off as simply average that night even if it meant drawing some unwanted attention her way.  
  
Danielle felt that this was something she must do, prove to them all her independence and that there scornful stares meant nothing to her. She had managed to avoid Nicolas for the rest of the day and he was able to behave himself in the ride over but once they arrived they went their separate ways, not wishing to even see each other until they had to at the end of the night. Etienne was there too, keeping quiet for the most part and then joining his colleagues once they arrived.  
  
One of the first persons Danielle saw when she arrived was her good friend Mademoiselle Suzette d'Artoi and she immediately made her way over to the lone standing woman.  
  
"Danielle, my goodness, it's been so long! How are you, how's the family, oh I can't believe it's been so long." The young woman exclaimed at the sight of the friend she hadn't seen for weeks. Her face that had a moment ago seemed almost sad perked to a bright and rosy shade as she beheld her friend with excitement.  
  
"Suzette it is so great to see you again." The two girls gently embraced and moved in the direction of a few open chairs in the corner.  
  
"How's your father doing? This must be so hard for you. Oh you've lost weight! You'll be nothing but skin and bones if you keep this up Danielle, are you not eating?" Suzette looked at her friend concerned, she could see an obvious physical difference in Danielle since she last saw her.  
  
"Father's alright for now, he's just not very mobile. Actually it was he who insisted that I come tonight..." there was a barely audible crack her voice as she felt a wave of emotions threatening to break at the mere mention of her father. She couldn't quite understand it really; as far as she was concerned she had already accepted the inevitable, so why couldn't she speak of it now?  
  
Suzette did not fail to notice the affect the subject was having, so she quickly decided to change it. She looked over to a crowd of people to see Etienne speaking with a group of young ladies, perfect she thought to herself. "My, Etienne looks as though he's grown another inch since I last saw him. He's going to be quite the heartbreaker I tell you."  
  
"Yes but the sad part is it'll be because he'd rather read his books than walk with a lady." Danielle laughed, immediately perking up at the change of topics as she too took notice of her little brother. She smiled contently, knowing that he would never have any real troubles in life.  
  
"Nonsense, he'll come around." A small commotion from the far end of the room attracted her gaze with a start. "You'll never believe who just walked in the room." Taking her friend by the shoulders she turned her to see Philip le Marquis de Ronge. Danielle smiled faintly at the site of the handsome young man she had not seen in weeks.  
  
"It's alright Suzette, we're still good friends." She replied off hand, still staring at the man. She could almost feel his arms around her, comforting her now when she needed it the most.  
  
"Still, it isn't right what that man did to you. He should have told you from the beginning that he was expected to marry some duchesse." Suzette scolded in the direction of the man who, as far as she knew, led her best friend on shamelessly.  
  
"He didn't know. Besides I think it wasn't so much that they wanted him to marry her than they didn't want him to marry me." Danielle turned back to face her friend sadly. Philip was still young and the only son of the Ronge family, who had strictly forbidden him for marrying the daughter of a chores girl of questionable parentage.  
  
"It's utter rubbish, that's what it is. This is the nineteenth century and he's letting his parents decide whom he can marry? Why, he's a grown man, he should have some more backbone." Suzette continued bitterly.  
  
"Well if he wants to retain his title and inheritance he has to..."  
  
"Titles mean so little these days and you've got money enough, he should have just married you and said to hell with it."  
  
"Suzette!" Danielle was astonished at her friend's protective outburst, but thankful at the same time.  
  
"Well it's the truth." Suzette crossed her arms in stubborn conviction with a full expression of displeasure written across her face.  
  
"Perhaps if things were different... The problem is that with father dying I'll have little claim over anything once he's gone. Nicolas wants to marry me off to a man who can take me off his hands, not ask him for financial support... to tell you the truth, I think he was almost as upset about the engagement as I was, simply because it got his hopes up that I would finally be gone." She did not want to talk about this, everything that seemed to be falling apart in her life had managed to come out within a few moments. She knew coming here would be a bad idea, if only father hadn't been so adamant, she thought with despair.  
  
After excusing herself politely from her friend, Danielle made her way to the hall, which lead to the gardens, thinking to herself that some fresh air and getting away from everyone could help clear her mind. This part of the house was quiet and empty, much to her relief. She could get away from all that chatter and gossip that she really was in no mind to hear at the moment.  
  
The thought of simply going home was becoming more and more appealing to her when all of a sudden two arms twisted her around and her lips were met with a familiar pair in a tight embrace. Shocked and confused, Danielle struggled, pushing the man away with half a mind to slap him when she at last met his eyes.  
  
"Monsieur just what do you think you're doing?" She spoke angrily yet all the while was desperately trying to contain the smile, which fought to show itself.  
  
Philip grinned playfully, watching the beautiful woman before him blush most becomingly, knowing that she was really trying vary hard to appear annoyed. He made no attempt to disguise his ardent gaze as his deep green eyes moved over her approvingly.  
  
"Kissing the woman I love." He replied innocently, moving in for another, which Danielle easily maneuvered easily around.  
  
"You sir are engaged." She said sternly, refusing to dwell on the emotions, which were beginning to swell within her.  
  
"Not technically. I'm supposed to be engaged but I haven't actually proposed yet." He tossed out simply. Danielle couldn't help but laugh at his disregard for the situation.  
  
"None the less, it's no excuse to accost me the halls. What if some one had have seen you?" Finding it exceedingly difficult to retain her look of displeasure she allowed her smile to finally escape.  
  
"Well then, I beg milady's pardon for my rash behavior. Now come with me, I have something I want to show you." Snatching her hand in his own, he started to drag her down the hall with him at a quick pace but she wouldn't allow him to get more then a few feet before she yanked her hand back.  
  
"Philip!" She cried while rubbing her hand and giving him a look of death.  
  
"Once again I must beg milady's forgiveness and I beseech thee, her most honorable ladyship, that she may indulge me in granting me the great privilege of an escort. For only the most beautiful and enchanting of all fair maidens in the land may see this." He said this while making the most over exaggerated gestures towards her and finishing with a sweeping bow, causing her to blush profusely in bewildered amusement. With a large grin on his face, he held out his hand to the woman, knowing that her resolve was leaving her.  
  
"I don't have a choice do I?" she sighed.  
  
"Not really. Come on, we'll be back before anyone misses us." And with that they were off, lightly running down the hall laughing like a couple of school children. Danielle decided that just this once she would indulge herself and entertain Philips playful advances, even if it meant returning to reality empty handed.  
  
The giggling couple made there way out to the gardens unseen. It really was a lovely estate and even though the company remained inside all the lamps were lit down the stone paths, which wound their way around groups of trees and flowers. They were rushing down a path running parallel to a wooded area when Philip turned their direction towards the trees.  
  
"Philip where are we going?" she gasped as he tried to lead her into the woods. "My dress!"  
  
"Oh, you must forgive me." He said, stopping to see that the hem would be soiled in the grass. He smiled mischievously before coming towards her quickly and I one confident swoop had her cradled in his arms. "Is this better milady?"  
  
He smiled down at her as her arms found their way around his neck. More for support she told herself, while rolling her eyes and answering, "I suppose it will have to do."  
  
He carried her only a few seconds through the woods when they opened to a beautifully lit clearing. It was a circular area, completely disguised by trees with a waterfall attached to a pond on one side and a few stone benches opposite. Three lamps lit the area with the help of the full luminous moon reflecting off the waters surface as the sound from the waterfall filled the air.  
  
"And here we are." Philip lightly said as he placed her down on the one of the intricately carved benches.  
  
"It's beautiful." Danielle looked around her wide-eyed in amazement at the incredible picture before her.  
  
"Monsieur Lacey showed me this place quite a while ago, as soon as I saw you here tonight I knew you needed to see it."  
  
"Thank you." She whispered distantly, still caught up in the scenery.  
  
"I brought you here because I wanted to give you something, and I thought this would be the perfect spot." He sat down beside her and immediately handed her a small velvet box. He watched her carefully as she opened it with a perplexed look on her face. Inside rested a ring adorned with a large diamond shaped sapphire, flanked by two diamonds set in gold. A million thoughts raced through her head as she stared unbelieving at the precious gift.  
  
"I don't understand" She spoke quietly, unable to look up at him as her body trembled slightly.  
  
With one hand he lovingly caressed her face forcing her eyes to meet his while his other hand took hold of one of her own. "Danielle, I love you and that's never going to change. So I want you to take this ring as a token of that love."  
  
"Philip I can't. You're going to be married." Why was he doing this to her, she wondered despairingly. Surely he knew that her heart could not be toyed with for much longer, what she needed was to forget about him.  
  
"Just take it and promise me to wear it until some man gives you a ring you would prefer to wear. Hopefully I will find a way around or out of this sham engagement and that man will be me but I can't ask you to wait. So just take it." So unsure of himself he looked while awaiting her answer. He always did appear young for his age, with his scruffy dark blonde hair and large bright eyes, that along with his always-playful attitude would cause her to seriously wonder if he was truly out of his teens at times.  
  
After a long moment, "very well" was the only thing she could say as she placed the ring on her hand. Smiling widely he pulled her from the bench and kissed her crimson lips with undisguised passion. Not caring anymore she returned his affections fervently, allowing her hands to wander through his hair and down his back while he held her tightly against him, fiercely exploring her mouth.  
  
After what felt like hours and only a moment all at once, they parted reluctantly. "We must be getting back." Danielle confessed, knowing she didn't want to answer any questions should someone notice her absence.  
  
"Yes, I suppose you are correct. You go on in, I'll follow in a bit." Nodding, she gently kissed him one last time before making her way back to the house, trying not to think about all that had taken place and what it meant.  
  
She was back inside for only a minute before Nicolas grabbed her forcefully to the side by her arm. "Tell me, is sneaking off into the woods with an engaged man the act of a virtuous woman?" he asked in restrained fury while she struggled loose of his grip.  
  
Not now, she thought angrily to herself, as she looked him calmly in the eye before replying. "Really Nicolas, I've been gone for less than ten minutes. I don't know what you can do with a woman in that amount of time but we were just talking. Ah I see Suzette, have a nice evening dear brother." She smiled slyly to him before turning her back on his loathsome glare.  
  
~*~  
  
Some days later...  
  
~*~  
  
Erik was laying lethargically on his divan in a failing attempt to get some reading done. He had just tuned the page when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a harsh bang on the door followed by Nadir rushing inside looking quite frazzled. Erik scowled under his mask but refused to face the man who had just burst uninvited into his house.  
  
"You know Nadir, it is accustom to wait till one is invited in before entering a home unannounced. Very poor manners and such." He spoke dryly as he turned another page of his book.  
  
Nadir stood nervously, unsure of how to approach the subject he so carelessly rushed over to ask about without even a second thought. He had only seen the newspaper maybe an hour ago and the first thought that came to him was he had to tell Erik.  
  
Sensing his friend's agitation, Erik calmly set his book to rest on the table, there would be no finishing it today. Sighing he turned to face him with an utterly bored look in his eyes. "Are you going tell me why are you here or am I to guess?"  
  
"Have you seen the paper this morning?" Nadir blurted out in a huff.  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"This mornings newspaper, have you read it yet?" Erik was almost ready to laugh outright in his friends face; he was making such a spectacle of himself as he waved the mornings paper in the air and spoke as though out of breath.  
  
Forcing himself off the couch, Erik walked over to the mantle, replying only as he tinkered with the first object his hand came across. "Of course Nadir, why the paperboy left a copy by the lake just a few hours ago..."  
  
Why must he always be so difficult, Nadir thought before walking over to him and shoving the paper into Erik's hands. "Read." He told him before taking a seat on the far wall. He was sure he did not want to be too close to him when he found out.  
  
Erik glanced over the first few lines before looking back at his friend. "Le Vicomte de Chagny's death, why should I care about that?" he asked in a dull voice.  
  
"Keep reading." With a sign, Erik once again lifted the pages and continued to read.  
  
Nadir could almost tell the exact moment when Erik's body went tense, it was almost as though a sudden shock reverberated through the air. The Persian watched in growing fear as Erik's hold on the paper tightened into a deathly grip.  
  
There was one section Erik couldn't help but read over and over again in complete disbelief.  
  
'The biggest surprise for family and friends of the Chagny's was not  
of the Vicomtes death but that of the immediate disownment of eldest  
child Danielle de Chagny. Eldest son and executer of the will, Nicolas  
de Chagny has found irrefutable evidence proving Mlle. de Chagny was  
not in fact the late Vicomtes daughter and as such has forfeited all  
her claims to her inheritance. Nobody has seen from her since her  
discharge from the family estate early yesterday morning.'  
  
Still staring fiercely at the page, Erik spoke in a barely controlled calm, "Tell me what you know."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know anything, I had no idea there was a child... Are you alright?" Nadir stood, though not willing to move any closer. He didn't expect Erik to take this lightly but then he really didn't know what to expect, though this forced control was really doing nothing for his nerves.  
  
Erik finally looked up at him with eyes that shone without recognition. "I thank you for this information," he said in a hushed voice that seemed to have lost all it beauty that was so characteristic of him. "But I'm afraid I must ask you to leave now."  
  
Not liking this, Nadir dared to ask one last time, "Are you sure?"  
  
"Go!" He nearly shouted as his eyes met Nadirs with a look of pure malice glimmering behind them.  
  
Nadir made no hesitation to quickly remove him self from the threshold, shutting the door with haste. He had only made it a few steps before cringing at the sound of crashing objects within the house.  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ^_^ 


	4. Life?

Disclaimer: A small section of this was inspired by a portion of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Not copied, but the general premise is there.  
  
A/N: *wipes forehead* well continuing with my trend of writing chapters that I originally intended to contain more information but became too long, I bring you this. I previously mentioned that I had cut a bunch of stuff out but would add it later, well it's here so I hope it doesn't come across as too condensed or too boring, it really wasn't something that was detrimental to the story. Over all I'm happy with this, and happy to finally have an update for this story, please let me know what you think ^_^  
  
// = Erik's thoughts  
  
~*~  
  
Another chair went crashing across the room, knocking a china dish to the floor after it collided with an end table. Erik did his best at avoiding going near anything of real value as his thoughts raced relentlessly through his head. In a mad fury he paced the room, a danger to any object which randomly offended him.  
  
The obvious truth of the paper burned into Erik's mind, stirring all the old emotions he had so carefully constructed a thick wall around. Emotions that as long as he forgot he possessed them, forgot that he really were after all human; he could at least find some sort of peace within this underground cage he had buried himself in. Anger, frustration, pain; these were not all that uncommon to him, but hope and betrayal; they were not something he would allow himself to think of, as one would inevitably lead to the other. Hope, that was his coup de grace. The bitter sweet irony of his entire existence seemed to rest on that one word, that continuing promise which always seemed to betray him. This was just another of its deceptions, another torment to add to the vaults.  
  
Again a crash echoed through the room. He did not know what it was he had sent flying away from him, he didn't even see really. It did not matter, that paper was the only thing that mattered.  
  
/ A child, my own, my flesh! And all these years I knew nothing. All these years I believed the only thing I would leave to this world was this ostentatious building, my only legacy. But a child! How could she deny me this, after all I did? A child who would love me... children love unconditionally, don't they? I loved my mother didn't I? A babe is not born with fear, it is learned and taught. She would have loved me, and I could have taught her so many things! And she would have loved me! /  
  
"Oh Christine... why didn't you tell me?" It was a weak moan of a voice, but it filled the entire room with its lamentation. Erik removed his mask and let his hands run over his fretful visage, cruelly reminding him of his fate.  
  
/ Did she hate me so much? No, it wasn't her fault, she didn't know, she thought I was dead. Even if she did know, she was married to her Vicomte, that boy. He certainly wouldn't have allowed her to tell me. As far as I'm concerned, he's the reason she's no longer here. She was too old, too frail to be still having children, the fool. No, I mustn't think of him now, he is no longer a concern. What is is that I have a child, a baby girl who is now a woman and flung to the streets by her own brother! Well, I'll deal with him later, but what chance does a woman raised an aristocrat, have on the streets! I don't even know what she looks like! I have a daughter and she could already be dead. /  
  
~*~  
  
Danielle turned down another street, briskly walking towards the ominous building before her. She was so tired now, it was only beginning to become dark but she hadn't slept since that night her father died and her fatigue was starting to get the best of her. A cold wind, whipped past her face, freshly stinging the surface with its crisp air. Danielle raised a hand unconsciously to the pain on the side of her face, feeling the swollen surface where Nicolas had struck her. Oh that had been a night the staff won't soon forget, she thought to herself with a wry grin.  
  
It had not had not taken long after Raoul's death for Nicolas to pull out the will and coincidently an old letter from Christine to Danielle for Raoul to give her when he thought it appropriate. It was not a detailed note, only really stating that another man by the name of Erik, whom she had known through the opera and was now deceased, was actually her father, not Raoul. Well at least that's all that Nicolas told her it said as he laughed in her anguished face, keeping the paper from her sight. A screaming match soon followed finishing with him stating 'no bastard child of an opera whore would be allowed to stay under his roof and that his father was a fool for marrying some common tramp.'  
  
It was then that Danielle's fury hit its peak and with her face glistening from fallen tears and her body overcome with a state of trepidation, she slapped him hard across the face, only to be met immediately by the back of his hand, flowing with a force that sent her staggering back. She was then roughly pushed to the ground before ducking her head, expecting another blow. It was then she heard a cry from Etienne.  
  
"You bastard!" she heard him shout. Raising her head, Danielle watched his fist connect forcefully with Nicolas's jaw. Etienne was then immediately at her side, helping her up from the hardwood floor. Nicolas only glared at the two while spitting a wad of blood to the side in contempt before replying.  
  
"No actually, I believe that's her" came his voice dryly as he rubbed his mouth and watch the two leave the room, Danielle being fully supported by Etienne. Her youngest brother had stayed with her the entire night as she cried like a child into his arms. Desperately he tried to comfort her but the poor boy knew that there really wasn't anything he could do.  
  
The morning was another spectacle to be witnessed, but in the end Danielle left holding her head high as she walked through the front door. She refused to loose her dignity in front of the staff and Josephine who with only a few years of life couldn't fully grasp the reality of the situation. The child threw a temper tantrum the likes of which had never been seen when only a night after her father died she was told her sister would also be leaving her. Danielle was allowed only to take the clothes on her back, a few pieces of jewelry, and money enough to buy a day's meals before being discharged from the estate.  
  
Knowing she couldn't face the humiliation of going to a friends begging for shelter, Danielle let her thoughts stray to her mother and to the grand opera house. There was only one person that crossed her mind, which could possibly answer some of the relentless questions disturbing her mind though she hadn't seen the woman in years. Danielle had last seen Mme la Baronne de Castelot-Barbezac at Christine's funeral, as the two had been good friends for a number of years before going their separate ways after marriage, and hoped the woman would not turn her back on her once good friend's daughter.  
  
After hearing Danielle's story, Meg had immediately offered her a room for the night, as it was already late day by the time she made it to her estate. Upon questioning, Meg had also been quite vague on the information she gave Danielle, saying she didn't know the whole story and did not want to give the girl the wrong impression, though she was thoroughly intrigued and obviously knew more than she was saying. Instead she mentioned that Christine had indeed kept a diary, which she had hidden in a false bottom desk at the opera. Though Christine had not been there for years, Meg enjoyed returning to the place of her former employment quite regularly and knew that that room was still believe to be haunted and was simply used as storage now, with all its old belongings still in place.  
  
Well then Danielle's mind was made up, she would do her best to find this diary and perhaps figure out who she really was. But beyond that she didn't have a clue what she would do. It would be near impossible for her to find a job, as she had no real labor skills. She couldn't cook, she couldn't sew, didn't know a thing about cleaning, and the only thing she could think of was perhaps a governess position but then who would hire her? Anyone who could afford a governess would know who she was and if not, would probably find out not long after. No family would want to deal with the possible gossip, which would inevitably follow her. Well it was no matter now, now she would find that diary if only to keep her mind focused on the task at hand, instead of worrying about her future.  
  
She finally arrived at the steps of the opera building and silently thanked her for once good fortune that there wasn't a performance that evening, allowing her to slip in unnoticed. Once inside, she carried herself like the true aristocratic daughter she was, making everyone she passed aware that her presence should not be questioned and that she had every right to be there. She only hoped there would not be some one there who would recognize her.  
  
Spotting what appeared to be a stagehand, Danielle approached him, hoping he could direct her to the former prima donnas dressing room. She spoke quickly and with authority, making sure he was well aware of his status next to hers so she could receive a quick, unquestioning response.  
  
Once the information she required was received, Danielle made her way through the backstage maze in search of this infamous dressing room, which on upon mentioning she received a shocked confused look from the old stagehand before he reluctantly directed her on her way.  
  
A strong wave of dizziness swept over her while she made her way down the empty corridors. She was so tired, she thought to herself as the dim lighting added to her weariness. She still did not have a place secured for the night she reluctantly remembered; there was no way she could make it back to Mme de Castelot-Barbezac that night. A stab of pain in her stomach also reminded her that she had not eaten since the previous night when Meg insisted on feeding the poor girl what seemed like anything she could find. Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she instead refocused on her task.  
  
At last she came to the inauspicious looking room. The eerie abandonment of this area of the building made it easy to see how rumors of its being haunted could seem reasonable. A gloomy essence seemed to fill the whole space and Danielle couldn't help but tremble just a little bit, despite her belief in her strength of will in such situations. She did not believe in ghosts, and the mere suggestion of one seemed preposterous, especially knowing that her mother once occupied the room just beyond the door she now lingering outside of.  
  
Slowly, with bated breath, she grasped the handle and tried to enter. The door did not give easily but after applying a fare amount of pressure it gave way to the musty old room. Danielle stepped inside, becoming enveloped in its darkness and looked around carefully. It was not all that cluttered with supplies, only a few large boxes along the walls made up the storage part of the room, the rest could be seen as a regular small sized dressing room. Lighting a candle, she set out on her work.  
  
~*~  
  
Erik quickly pushed through the old dressing rooms door with a heedlessness born from years of its disuse. He had made sure a long time ago that no one would ever again occupy her room again, and though the opera ghost had seemed to disappear for many years, eventually he couldn't help but make 'suggestions' to the staff when their focus seemed to fall to their bank accounts rather then the appreciation of music.  
  
He stopped instantly upon entry and silently cursed under his breath for his recklessness. With the door already closed behind him, his eyes fell to the small sleeping form of a young woman curled up on the old bed in the corner. A candle rested on the bedside table along with a small book, it gave the room a soft glow and cast a golden shadow upon the girl's youthful face.  
  
He saw her stir, her limbs slowly moving in the actions of one about to wake and her eyes shooting open. It was too late now, she saw him. An alarmed look crossed her face as she made a short gasp. Quickly he turned to make his way out of the room. Let the ballet rats have another story to pass around, he though off handedly.  
  
"Erik?" a soft questioning voice called from behind him.  
  
He froze, then moving with deliberate calm, he faced her. With only the small glow of the candle illuminating the room, Danielle could see the glaring blaze of the man's yellow eyes boring into her. A strange fear crept over her as she stared back, finding it impossible to break eye contact. Those eyes which burned trailed calmly and rested momentarily on the book, Christine's diary, which rested leisurely at her side. They lingered there for a moment before trailing back to her, and holding her eyes in a piercing gaze like a fire was burning behind them. He knew that book, knew how this girl must have learned his name.  
  
/ Why do they do it? Do I ask for them to come here? To disturb her things. To disrespect her personal belongings! /  
  
Again he cursed his own foolishness for not taking his lasso with him; it would've made this much easier for him. He truly wished he didn't have to kill the girl but she had left him no choice, if she had learned his name from that book she was sure to have learned too much else from it as well.  
  
"You are Erik?" again she asked, propping her self up on her elbow. She appeared completely calm; unaware of the danger she was in. Little did she know that if he had had his lasso with him, she would already be dead.  
  
Best to make this quick, he decided with only a skilled killer's indifference. Before she could comprehend his actions, the masked man, this all encompassing shadow of black, was towering over her, his hands firmly gripping her neck, and forcing her body flat against the bed with incredible strength. She tried to cry out but already her air was cut off with a pressure increasing painfully against her throat.  
  
He would not look at her; he would not look at her struggling or her face twisted in anguish. Instead he focused on the headboard, merely waiting for the girl's movement beneath him to stop. He did not want to know her, to know anything about her; it was easier that way, when they were faceless. And then he would simply drag her to the streets to leave her in anonymity. Let her be found in some back alley, another one of the city's silent victims, simply a woman who turned down the wrong road at the wrong time. He could see it all forming in his mind as he stared at that headboard, he didn't even feel the girls nails digging into the flesh of his hands and wrists, scratching deeply, and drawing blood in a desperate attempt to free herself.  
  
Perhaps he should have paid her mind, for then he would have noticed her legs flailing, kicking out at him, and even striking him though he didn't really feel it. For then perhaps he could have avoided her swift kick to his groin, causing his grip to momentarily loosen from the unexpected pain.  
  
With all her strength Danielle pushed at him and struggled to get away. Just managing to roll of the bed as when his hands no longer gripped her neck, she darted to the other side of the room. Immediately she grasped a knife, which was lying idly on the dresser, she had used it earlier to pry out the bottomless drawer and thanked her luck for the second time that day for it being there. She coughed violently as she held the knife between the two of them, clinging to it as though it would be a shield against this man.  
  
Erik reeled on her instantly but did not advance. As cruel as it was, he could not help but chuckle under his breath as he looked at the sad girl. It was pathetic, seeing her barely standing, thinking that a mere knife could save her. Again she attempted to speak but painfully found her voice fail her. He didn't want to watch this anymore; it really was too pathetic.  
  
In only a moment and with one swift movement, he had twisted the knife from her hand and held her tightly against his body; the blade firmly pressed to her throat with his other arm holding her across the waist. A gasp escaped her as the truth of her situation finally overwhelmed her. Silent tears began to fall from her eyes as she desperately fought to regain her voice. If only she could speak! But did it really matter now? She had nothing left, no family, no identity; no one would miss her now. Was she crying because she was afraid, or because there was no one left who would care?  
  
Erik tightened his grip on the hopeless girl. He could not do it here; it would be far too messy, so he began to pull the girl towards the mirror. Perhaps he could just knock her out and throw her in the lake. The idea satisfied him, knives really were too crude a method for his taste.  
  
He stopped before the mirror to reposition himself before releasing one of his hands to open it. Danielle trembled under his grip, feeling the pressure of the knife increase against her throat. Though he would never admit it to himself, Erik really was enjoying this little foreplay between the two of them. He had complete control over the girl, complete power over this woman who under any other circumstance would be trembling with disgust of his face, not from the cool knife's blade, which now rested against her delicate pale skin. He allowed himself to glance down at her tear soaked face; yes, she was just another beautiful, youthful woman, just like all the rest of them, the kind who would never look upon him with kindness or compassion, why should he show any to her?  
  
"Please, no." Danielle finally squeaked out. Her voice was beginning to come back.  
  
He lowered his head to her ear and spoke quietly in a voice entwined with malevolence and a callous calm. "You should know better my dear, then to read that which does not belong to you."  
  
Danielle swallowed involuntarily, feeling the pain of the blade all the more acutely by the action as the man straightened himself. She herself straightened, this was the only chance she had, and if he didn't care she would soon die, Danielle was sure of it.  
  
Again in her pained voice she replied, this time with forced confidence. "My name is Danielle de Chagny, and that book is rightfully mine."  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ^_~ 


	5. Home?

A/N: Alright, I know this seems soon, but really it's what I thought I would get through in the last chapter before word count grew ridiculously. I am very nervous about this chapter, I've never written a heavy Erik chapter before and I'm paranoid that I've screwed him up somewhere. Despite how quickly I've added this, this was not an easy chapter to write so please let me know what you think.  
  
Thanks so much to my reviewers so far. Olethros, as always your input is greatly appreciated. And I do agree with you that Erik would be too efficient a killer and simply knocked her out... But then she'd be dead and I'd have no story : P oh and I definitely caught the mask bit, much to my embarrassment. Anyways, enough incredibly long authors notes...  
  
~*~  
  
Danielle felt the man behind her stiffen after she spoke her words. They stood there, silently together for what seemed like an eternity to the poor girl. If only he would do something, anything, she thought nervously, but instead she was forced to endure this foreboding silence. Her heart raced to a new speed as she doubted her chances at survival. What if he didn't believe her? Perhaps he didn't know who she was, or didn't care even? What could she hope to expect from this man who was ready to kill her with out reason?  
  
As she stood, her trembling became more and more apparent as her legs weakened beneath her. Still he did not move. The only thing she could really feel was the heavy rise and fall of his chest against her back, an almost soothing sensation in contrast to the panic running rampant amongst her senses. The knife was also no longer firmly pressed to her throat. At this realization a wave of relief overcame her in a tide which nearly made her swoon in his arms if he had not already let go of her.  
  
She watched cautiously as he slowly circled to face her, his eyes locked to her own with a terrifying intensity. He closed in, gently placing his hand beneath her chin and drawing his face near as he made his careful inspection. Danielle knew she should run, that this could be her only opportunity to escape, but those burning eyes held her fast, leaving her body in paralysis. Staring into that black mask with those golden eyes was like staring into the face of a fantastic demon -- merely drawing out the suffering of its victim before consuming her completely.  
  
The demon's eyes softened as once again a few tears escaped down the trembling girls cheeks. She knew how she must appear to him; even in such a situation she couldn't help but think of her hurt pride, that she had allowed him to see her fear. Her eyes were red and swollen while her face was blotched with pigments of red against her colourless flesh. She must have looked utterly pathetic to him, the perfect victim. At last he let his hand drop and backed away slightly.  
  
"Christine..." he whispered softly, in a way which sounded almost as though he were about to weep.  
  
Danielle stood nervously as the man found some sort of recognition in her face. She knew it was difficult to see but it was there none the less, it was in her eyes, the shape of her jaw line, her mouth and smile. "She was my mother." The girl replied mechanically after a moment past with him still looking at her.  
  
Danielle watched the man turn away from her, and with ungraceful steps moved towards the dresser, placing the knife down where she had retrieved it. Allowing his hands to settle on its dusty surface, he rested his weight upon the old worn wood.  
  
She heard his deep intake of breath as he did so, and was he trembling? She did not know. As she simply remained in her place, unable to make a single step, Danielle stared at the mass of black now turned away from her. She was at a complete loss as to what to do. Could this man, this thing, really be her father? The unwelcome idea raced through her mind as she stood dumbly.  
  
"Then you know who I am?" Danielle at last spoke, unable to hide the nervousness in her voice.  
  
"I do." He replied without movement.  
  
"And then you know what I am to you?"  
  
There was a loud exhale of breath before the man replied. "Only since I read the paper mentioning your dismissal."  
  
Silence. Still he did not move, but it was of no matter, if he had Danielle would not have noticed. Wave after wave of emotions were busy flooding her senses as she heard that final confirmation. How could it be true? How could they do this to her? All those years her life was a lie! Was it simply so that her mother could save face? Did they do it for her vanity, and in the end, Nicolas's accusations about her were indeed correct? Danielle's life ruined for the sake of her mothers reputation!  
  
Anger and betrayal coursed through her very veins as a scorching fury gained rapid control of her conscious. She had come here with the hope of finding answers to her many questions but instead what she found was a lifetime of lies and deception. Bitter resentment clouded her senses as a fog of impudence descended on her nerves. She looked over at the hunched man who was unaware of the transformation taking place behind him. She could not accept this, this truth, it was simply intolerable. What was his part in this little infidelity? She would have her answers. Danielle's eyes turned to thin slits as she glared without fear at his imposing figure.  
  
"Tell me," she began in mock sarcasm, "did you use a knife when you did it or did you simply cover her mouth... or perhaps you preferred to let her scream?"  
  
He whirled round to face the defiant girl, shocked by her words. It took him a moment before he even comprehended what it was exactly that she was implying.  
  
"Or maybe this was just the way you had her pay for her music lessons? The willing whore perhaps?" Danielle's voice was scathing with hatred as every instance, every unforgettable moment of mockery and humiliation brought about by her 'questionable parentage' flashed through her mind, stirring the demon in her.  
  
"How dare you speak of her like that!" Erik hissed, taking a deliberate step towards her. He made full use of his height as he stared threateningly at the girl.  
  
"How dare she raise me as she did! Come now, were you the only one or are there others to whom I may belong? It appears she enjoyed the wealthy, possibly there were other patrons she served as well?" She refused to back down, knowing that she could very well be provoking his anger, she did not care. Let him kill her, she thought sardonically, it would be a fitting end now that she had nothing at all.  
  
Erik grabbed her roughly by the top of her arm and held her firmly in place, bringing his head near. "One would think that after what you just went through, you would learn to hold your tongue my dear."  
  
His voice chilled her very flesh with its menace but still she did not falter. With a wry smile she looked him over confidently. "One would think that after what I just went through, I would have no doubt that you would force her."  
  
At this he let go of her arm abruptly with a quick shove. The force caused her to step back a few paces, stopping only once her back lightly touched the cool surface of the mirror. He turned away from her angrily only to round back and nearly shout, "You are speaking of things you clearly know nothing about!"  
  
"Of course I am! All I know is that a few days ago I had a family, life, and future. And now my father, my real father that is, is dead and I have nothing! Only the knowledge that my entire existence was a complete lie and that now my biggest concern seems to be that of which bridge I'll have to sleep under tonight. So forgive me for my impertinence, but from what knowledge I do have, all I can gather is that either you coerced my mother or she was a tramp. You tell me." The last line came out as a sob; she couldn't believe she was crying again. Using her hands to quickly wipe away her tears, Danielle could see she was visible shaking once more. Damn her for being so weak, she thought bitterly.  
  
The anger that she had for her own inability to stand up to this man was turning like venom towards him. Out of frustration alone it seemed she would attack. "You don't honestly expect me to believe that she could have loved you? An obvious murderer and masked phantom, her 'Angel of music'. Tell me, how long did it take her to realize she could much better serve her angelic guardian on her back?"  
  
He stared coldly at her, unmoved by her words. Breathing heavily, he folded his arms against his chest, keeping his eyes ever poised on his daughters. "Are you finished now, or do you have something else you would like to add to that little out burst of yours?" Erik caustically replied. Lowering his arms, he began to circle around her slowly before he continued on. "Perhaps another one of your colourful, oh so lady like, innuendos? No? Well then let me tell you something," He grasped her once again by the shoulders and brought his face close to hers, causing her to shiver involuntarily. "Things are not simply black and white, I did not coerce your mother nor was she anything less then of the highest virtue. And if you ever speak about her in such a way again, I'll be forced to muzzle that sharp little tongue of yours for you and trust me, you will not enjoy my methods."  
  
A noise from out in the hallway caught both there attentions before Danielle had a chance to respond. In a quick movement, Erik pinched the candle and with Danielle dragged along, moved them both through the pivoting mirror. She tried to cry out at the sudden flood of darkness they were plunged into but Erik held his hand fast over her mouth. "Quiet." He hissed.  
  
She watched in wide-eyed wonder as the door to the dressing room open and two men stepped in, talking loudly. Now with the light of the hall peering though, she could see that they were no longer in her mother's old room, but behind that great full sized mirror. The men seemed to simply grab a box and close the door loudly behind them. Erik took his hand away her mouth and muttered something about that being twice in one day.  
  
The mirror pivoted once more, and again they were back in the old dressing room. Erik took no time in lighting the candle as well as picking up Christine old diary. He would not read it; he knew that Christine would not have wanted him to, so instead he handed it easily enough to Danielle, catching her off guard by the action.  
  
"I suggest you finish that before you go off making any more of your clever accusations." He said sharply before he went about the room, putting various things back in order.  
  
Danielle sat down on the bed with the book in hand and watched the man curiously as he seemed to know the exact spot where every item of her mothers was meant to rest. "So that mirror, that was how you came to her?" she asked clumsily, her previous eruption of anger seemed to have dissolved to a lull.  
  
"It was." He answered while fussing about with the drawer she had earlier removed.  
  
"She talked about her opera days often, well not when Papa was around, but when he wasn't she shared with me some of the most amusing stories." For some reason she was completely at ease now. It was pointless to continue fighting; it wasn't like she had anything left to gain or lose, so why not talk to him as though he were just another person? She simply didn't care anymore. "Did you know that once the Prima Donna began to croak on stage? I used to love it when she'd tell me that one."  
  
She could here the man lightly chuckle under his breath. "Yes, I dare say I know about that one." Again he laughed, this time more fully as he finally fitted the drawer back in place. "That poor frog, stuck in La Carlotta's golden throat."  
  
She grinned slightly at the memory of her mother's impression of the famous event while she was still a child. She always had the best stories to tell.  
  
Erik turned to face her seriously, looking as though he was in deep contemplation. "You weren't exaggerating when you said you had no place to go were you?" he asked with concern.  
  
"No." She replied, not meeting his eyes, instead she simply flipping through the pages of the book, using it as a distraction.  
  
"Haven't you any friends? And what have the rest of your family had to say about this?"  
  
Danielle merely shrugged. "My friends were few and they have their own problems, I could not place myself at their mercy. I was never particularly on good terms with my aunts, I doubt they even care."  
  
Erik frowned under his masked as he watched the girl shift awkwardly. "If you don't mind me saying so, I would think that a girl your age and in your social position would have been married by now."  
  
"Let's just say my social position was compromised. Recent events should tell you why." she answered in obvious irritation. If he was going to continue this way, she was sure to lose her temper again.  
  
He came towards her and motioned for her to stand away from the bed. He then began fixing and straightening its sheets. "Well I'm certainly not going to have you sleeping on the streets so you'll have to stay here, at least till I can arrange for a proper flat for you."  
  
Startled by his words, she took a frantic look around the small crowded room. "What? Here, in this room?"  
  
"Of course not. Really, how much of that book have you read? You can stay in your mother's old room in my home." Finished with the bed he faced her.  
  
"And why should I trust you?" She asked, unsure of herself. Everything was moving so fast! The only thing she really knew about this man was that he had intended to kill her and now he was inviting her to his home?  
  
Erik's voice broke her thoughts. "If I intended to harm you, I would've have done so by now. If you prefer to take your chances on the streets, you're more then welcome to do so."  
  
She really had no choice in this. This man, if he were truly willing to help her could be her only chance at getting some sort of life back. Taking a deep breath, she gave her reply. "Very well, I accept."  
  
~*~  
  
R&R Please @---- 


	6. Apparent?

A/N: Alright, after about what? 10 months or so, I've updated. To be honest if it wasn't for your continuing reviews I probably would've let this one die. I just figured people wouldn't be too interested in a Fanfic that centered around the second generation rather than our beloved trio. Anyways let me know if you think I should continue with this, depending on how this is received I'll decide weather to spend anymore time on it.

* * *

Hailey walked up the street with a knowing grin spread across her childlike face. Every step only emphasized the young woman's confidence as she slowly made her way to the de Chagny manor. Today she was visiting her favorite client, the wealthy and handsom Nicolas de Chagny, and though she did see him often, this was the first time she had ever been requested to meet him at his home. The late Vicomtes death, no doubt, was the reason for this sudden change in etiquette, yet she was still surprised he would so openly flaunt their _relationship._

Stopping out side the estates impressive entrance,the girltookher time to primp quickly in the windows reflection. Her thick, spiraling auburn hair was done up flawlessly, her emerald eyes expertly painted, and her full lips stained just the right shade of rouge contrasting perfectly with her porcelain skin. Her dress, like the rest of her, was exquisite. Her patrons expected no less than the appearance of the perfect woman of fashion; that's why she was here, at the height of her profession, while those others still struggled on the streets. She knew what they wanted.

It was the maid that opened the door after she gave it a light rap. "May I help you?" the small woman asked, eyeing her intently.

"Yes, I am here to see Monsieur de Chagny. He is expecting me." Hailey replied, barely containing her pleased expression.

"And who should I say is calling?"

"Mademoiselle Hailey Lynn." The maid gave her a reproving look but said nothing more before allowing the young girl to step inside and left to fetch her master.

Fully enjoying herself,Hailey took her time in examining the expensive artwork and furnishings of the entrance. _What it must be like to live like this!_ Hermind whirled at the thought, it was such a tantalizing dream for someone such as herself, born into nothing, but she didn't like to dwell on such things.She was not standing in silence long before she was greeted not by Nicolas, but instead by Etienne, who made sure to announce his presence with the full extent of his views towards the girl made plain.

"_You!_ What are _you_ doing here?" came his voice furiously fromabove her. He was standing at the top of a grand staircase, which took up a large portion of the entranceway,obviously unimpressed. "How dare you show your face in this house?"

Hailey smiled mischievously as she glanced up at the boy, who looked absolutely livid. "A pleasure to see you again too, monsieur," she said while making a mock bow, clearly finding amusement in his discomfort.

Enraged, he came down the steps two at a time, his face fully flushed in anger; there was no mistaking the contempt that glinted in his eyes. "Get out of this house; you disgrace it by your very presence."

"I'm here at Nicolas's request. If you have a problem with that, then I suggest you take it up with him," she answered sharply while walking farther into the room, giving it an appraising look to further anger the boy.

"Hailey, so good of you to come," Nicolas's voice finally carried over to them. Both turned in the direction of the stairs, which he now stood atop with the smallest smirk on his fully composed face.

The grin on Hailey's face now broadened as her eyes flashed dangerously on Etienne before turning to Nicolas. "Well who was I to turn down a request from the new Vicomte de Chagny?"

Addressing Nicolas, Etienne made no effort to disguise the loathing that drippedfrom every syllable he uttered. "How could you…" came a waspish voice from deep in his throat, growing in strength. "How could you bring that… that _whore_ into this house! Have you no respect left?"

Hailey's eyesbecame thin slits as she brought her attention back to the incensed boy before her. "Actually, I prefer the term courtesan. _Your_ family of all people should recognize those fine distinctions. Now if you'll excuse me."

She then brushed passed Nicolas's brother, sure to see thathe was givena light shove as she went, though keeping her eyes clearly locked on the man at the top of the stairs. Nicolas turned with a thin smile as soon as she was close and led her down the hall into a room Haileyhad not expected to visit on this trip.

"Just one moment," he said while straitening some papers on an eloquent mahogany desk taking up a good portion of the room.

She had been led into a massive study, filled with books andletters as a roaring fire was fully ablaze against the far wall. Nicolas had only glanced at her awkwardly before taking his seat behind the desk and hunched over the papers. "I've been swamped with paper work since my father's death, and now this whole fiasco with that bastard half sister of mine..."

Stepping behind him, Hailey allowed her hands to snake over his shoulders, messaging them lightly. "Oh? And what has the little witch done now?"

Nicolas immediately relaxed into her touch, closing his eyes briefly, and letting out a shuttering breath. "My aunts think I was acting rashly. Though they agree she has no right to call her self a de Chagny, they think it looks rather heartless to just throw out with no money. So, now I'm supposed to track her down and offer her an allowance of some sorts. Ridiculous."

"She deserves what she got if you ask me," Hailey's breathed lightly as she let her hand slide down over his chest and brought her head close to his ear. "You need to get your mind off of all this. You look pale."

Looking distantly across the room, Nicolas brought his hand up to rest on hers. "You would be too, if your father just died."

"I never knew my father," she echoed with a faint smile, feeling his lips gently brush the back of her hand.

"Would you have wanted to if you could?" He looked up at her now, his eyes full of unsaid emotion.

"I don't know."

* * *

The mirror once again pivoted on unseen hinges, revealing the dark corridor beyond. Erik was the first to enter, holding the small candle in one hand, while watching the girl with an odd, disconcerting intensity. With burning trepidation, Danielle stepped across that foreboding threshold and the mirror swung tightly closed with an ominous thump; it was now nothing but a cold echoing window to a former life, which had rejected her. 

The subtle glow of the candle illuminated only a small space around the two as Danielle nervously stood her ground. She was unaware of her shaking while she strained to see into the dark abyss though it was not lost on that other figure in her presence that silently waited for her to take a step.

It wasn't until a cold, clammy hand grasped her wrist and gently urged her forward that she realized how long she had been standing there, lost in the drowningsilence.

"Come along now," his subtle voice carried to her. "It will not take us too long."

Surprising even herself, Danielle did not pull back but instead let him slowly lead her down, five stories below ground into what seemed to be an underworld that had only existed in myths and legends. What had her mother thought when she saw all this? Her mother who had always been so enchanted by her books about princesses and locked towers, dashing heroes and mystical realms? Her mother who was always so much less practical than her authoritative young daughter?

When they at last reached the glowing waters of what Danielle could only appropriately name Lake Averne, it was all the girl could do to hold back a giggle as Erik gestured for her to take a seat in the ghostly boat.

"And how much do I owe the ferry man for this forbidden passage?" Danielle asked with a grin, while shaking her head and slipping into the small front padded seat. _This was all too much!_ Erik couldn't help but smirk slightly, the reference not at all lost to him, before the boat glided from its post.

They entered the house in silence; the sudden light Danielle was welcomed to sent her mind reeling as Erik watched on, intently. _How could such a place exist!_ To go from the murky and desolate cellars to a house like any other, so incredibly ordinary; it took the girls breath away. Slowly her eyes swept from object to object scattered throughout the room, many of which seemed foreign, others merely old and well used.

"How did you find this place?" she asked in awe with her back turned to him, taking it all in.

"I built it," Erik answered simply. "I was one of the original contractors working on this building. I simply made some adjustments to the plans. Christine's room is this way."

He made a gesture to an empty space on the wall and went to stand beside it. Danielle stared at him incredulously looking and failing to find any sign of a door.

"There's a door there," she said dully. It wasn't a question, Danielle was sure that that was what he meant. After passing though moving mirrors and unending labyrinths, she was quitesure this was yet another clever trick.

"Yes," he answered slowly, in an unsettling voice. He stepped towards her, his ever-watchful eye shining with something that wasn't there a minute ago. Something in him had changed.

The girl shivered involuntarily, taking a nervous step back. Now that she was within a place that could be considered a partially normal world, the recklessness of her actions seemed to dawn on her. She was in a house with no doors, seven levels within hell, and with a masked murderer, trapped.

Unfazed by her actions, Erik continued to advance, raising his hand as he neared her. Danielle winced as the skeletal hand came close; shutting her eyes tightly while irrational fear flowed over her body.

It was only a light brush along her chin, slowly turning her head to the side.

"Who did this to you?" his voice called in a single velvet strand, coaxing her eyes to open.

She stared blankly at him a moment before remembering the faded bruise which must still be visible across the side of her cheek. Flushing with embarrassment she touched the spot absently,struggling to find her tongue.

"Nicolas… my brother… He and I were in a bit of a fight before I left. It's nothing."

"I see," were his only words though it seemed his eyes had thinned as they continued to dwell on the faint, discoloured spot.

Without another word he pushed something against the wall and the hidden door swung open. He stepped back in a sharp motion, allowing Danielle to be the first to enter.

Taking a lamp with her, Danielle was instantly surrounded by a room that was unmistakably Christine's. At once her senses were bombarded as even the lingering scent stirred memories of the girl's happy childhood, a time when life seemed so simple. Unable to speak, she took in every sight with amazement and began to pace around the room in slow strides.

"I'll leave you be. Every thing in this room was once Christine's," he paused as though lost in the memories as well before continuing despondently. "They are now yours. I assume you have not eaten. I'll see if I have anything appropriate."

Danielle didn't look but she heard the door shut quietly behind her. Christine, her mother, all this was hers! What kind of life did she live if it meant all this was part of it? This world, this phantom, this life, why had she given it up? Yes, her diary had explained the reason for the mask but surly it mustn't be that bad could it, that it would drive her away? Or perhaps she didn't want a dream life; she wanted to be a titled lady of power and prestige? This world was a great offer but Raoul's was more to her liking? Did Danielle even know her mother at all?

Erik's thoughts were no better organized that night but the sound of smashing glass and a sharp agonized yell helped keep them focused. Instantly he was back at Danielle's door.

* * *

Please R&R, I'm really curious if people would care about a fic like this. 


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